


To Live is to Suffer and Love

by infiredbygucci



Category: Merlin (TV), Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, Crossover, Gay Male Character, Immortal Merlin, M/M, Renaissance Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 15:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14917584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infiredbygucci/pseuds/infiredbygucci
Summary: Merlin is immortal. Sometimes his past comes back to haunt him.





	To Live is to Suffer and Love

**Author's Note:**

> Merlin will have an alias in most of these so don't get confused if they call him by a different name.

One the first times it happened to him was one of the most hurtful ones. He met him in France around the late 1600's. Unlike his previous life, this boy bathed in golden jewels and silks from all across the world. Despite the lack of dirt and sweat on the fair and youthful skin, Merlin recognized Mordred's face instantly. 

Merlin was supposed to be playing cello for an event in Versailles, France, where the King resided. He ended up playing for eight more events within the same week, but only saw the boy's face once. Mordred approached him with tinted cheeks and a grin that fell slightly with the weight of expensive wine. "My brother's gone. Why not dance with me instead?" He'd said with an outstretched hand. That night he wore a maiden's dress with jewlery Merlin never imagined seeing on the young knight. Nonetheless they danced to the beat of the other musicians' music. Mordred knew both Merlin's and his own steps by heart, so much that even the wine couldn't make him miss stumble. 

Later, they'd laughed and retired to the higher-up's chambers, but while Mordred was very eager for intercourse, he was also very accepting to Merlin's rejection. "Well, that's a tragedy. You were staring. I was beginning to hope it was affection I was seeing." He'd pouted, lifting Merlin's chin with a single finger as if to take one last look before he turned on his heel and headed towards the bed.

"The word affection is still appropriate," Merlin figured. "It's simply not the same kind of affection you expected." He admited. 

Mordred raised his arms midway and, almost instinctively, the elder began to undress him as any servant would. "Something tells me there's more to it."

Merlin hesitated. This was not Mordred. Even if they shared a face, Merlin could not see them share the same soul. Mordred would never do or say any of the things this Mordred did or said. "I'm ashamed. You look eerily similar to someone I used to know." He said finally.

"Someone special?" The noble asked curiously, letting out a breath of relief once the corset was taken off fully. 

Merlin paused again, unsure if he should open up so blindly, but, then he thought, he'll be back in England by this weekend. What's there to lose? He needed somewhere to vent out anyway. "Someone I'd failed." He admitted. "In any matter, he's passed now. There's nothing to do."

"Oh," said the younger. "I am deeply sorry for your loss."

"Don't be." Merlin reassured with a smile and let the dress fall to the boy's ankles. "It was for the best. He wasn't very pleasant."

Merlin didn't get a response to that. The other was obviously unsure of what to say. He was drunk, but not enough to speak ill of the dead. "Tell me, Charles, have you tried the fragrances we have here, in Versailles?"

Merlin raised an eyebrow as he put away the dress and came back with some sleeping robes. "No. What might you be suggesting?" He said jokingly.

Mordred shrugged. "You are tense. I might not attract you, but with powder, everything is attractive." He said, "without any offence intended, you look like you haven't gotten laid in centuries."

Merlin let out a laugh, a genuine one. "And you look like you've gotten laid for centuries- no offence." 

"None taken," Mordred laughed as well, relieved to find the air grow lighter. "Lay with me, then. I enjoy your company without sex as well." 

Merlin chuckled and nodded. He wouldn't deny the boy of anything at this point. He didn't know if it was out of guilt or loneliness, but either way, he took off his heavy gearments and crawled under the sheets with the French man. They talked and faced one another while Mordred's gentle hands studied Merlin's features as if it were paper. Those touches didn't exceed from his neck down, though. 

"You are very beautiful, did you know that?" he'd said when silence settled and they were half asleep. "Specially those cheekbones, may God have mercy on your lady's heart." 

Merlin chuckled tiredly, eyes closed, but incredibly amused. "Says the one who looks like an actual doll." Merlin shot back with a smile. "It's ridiculous. It's like you were sculpted by the Greeks or something."

"Fuck you," the younger laughed. "You know, they used to call me that as a child. I was a pretty baby- doll-like, as you said, and everyone decided that they'd call me mignonette. Especially when my mother decided to dress me in women's clothing."

"Your mother?" Merlin's face twisted in confusion and somewhat disgust, opening his eyes to look at the other. "I thought it was of your own will."

"It is now," Mordred admitted. "My mother didn't want me to try and overthrow my brother, so she made sure that I had no support from the people- should the idea ever occur to me." He explained, making Merlin's eyes soften. "When I showed my interest in other men, she was eager even. Another thing to make people laugh at me."

"That's terrible. I wouldn't know what to do, had I been in your shoes." Merlin told him, but he could tell the younger's head was elsewhere. 

"Jokes on her, I won all that respect back after I went to war last month." Mordred was smiling as he said this, a smug factor in it but also a false one. Without really thinking, Merlin cupped the younger's face and kissed him. It was soft and quick, but deep enough to send the meaning across. "What was that for?" Mordred had to ask anyway, fluttering his eyelashes prettily in surprise. 

"War is never a good memory." Merlin told him. "No matter what it achieves, it still costs a great deal." They stared into each other's eyes and Mordred's smile spread over the boy's face. 

"Say my name." He'd said suddenly, catching the English off guard. "I never introduced myself and you haven't said it once throughout the whole evening." He pointed out. "Maybe it's best if I don't tell you, after all."

"That worries me." Merlin admitted, though playfully enough to widen the boy's smile. "Should I be?"

The younger's gaze switched to Merlin's lips for a moment before going back to his eyes. "You've already kissed me, so no." He teased, earning a very talented eyeroll from the elder. "It's Philippe." He said finally and Merlin's heart-rate sped up right after, but his face remained calm. "Duke of Orleans and prince of France." 

"I should apologize then, for the lack of modesty, no?" He asked as he twirled one of Philippe's locks with his finger. His hair was a bit below shoulder length and it was impressively healthy and soft as well. It wasn't Merlin's fault he was infactuated.

"I've been charmed without the modesty, don't start now." The prince smiled cheekily and broke eye contact in favor of burying his nose into the English man's neck. "Why don't you tell me about this long lost twin of mine instead?" He said and Merlin let out a heavy sigh. 

"Well, he killed my best friend and a bunch of other people before he eventually got himself killed-" Philippe's eyes went wide immediately and he almost choked on air, had Merlin not let out a laugh. "But, you know, I met him as a child and he was the loveliest, seriously. I purposely hoped he would die on his own several times, though- even as an infant. I had been warned of his potencial and it's what drew us apart. If only I'd helped him, I believe he wouldn't have become what he did and maybe we would've had have a happily ever after."

"Just how long ago was this?" Philippe questioned quickly, although somewhat in shock. 

Merlin smiled, amused by his reaction. "A long time ago." He shrugged simply. "Don't fret about it too much. You are nothing like him- although your affection towards the Chevalier reminds me of a love of his. Kara, I believe was her name. The best friend of mine that I told you about? He was at fault for her arrest and execution for attempted murder on the king and after that, Mordred became someone-"

"Wait- did you say Mordred?" Philippe quickly interrupted raising from his place over Merlin's chest to lock eyes. "As in, Mordred, the Traitor?" 

Merlin's lips parted in surprise before looking away in regret. "Go to sleep, your Highness. You are tired." He insisted and attempted to sit up, but the prince pushed him back down to his original position. 

"No, I want to know whether you're toying with me or not-"

"I am not, my prince." Responded Merlin with a frown. "So please, get some rest for me." Philippe, taken aback, hesitated and froze for a moment before loosening his hold on Merlin and slowly sinking back down to his previous position.

He laid his head on the elder's chest and stayed silent. Merlin's eyes stuck to his thoughts as he fell asleep to the man's heart beat. It was painful to see such guilt on the elder's eyes. Philippe decided he'd rather never bring up the subject again, given they meet elsewhere. Platonically or not, Philippe hoped they would.

**Author's Note:**

> Any more requests for reincarnations of some characters in canon era or other eras? I'm so down for writing more of this concept.


End file.
